Page 45 of Mastered By Desire

This was stupid. My face is burning.

After too long, he says, “I’m glad you called.”

It’s hard to believe he remembers me, but the warmth in his voice is reassuring.

“I’m not really sure why I did.” I stare at Dmitri’s couch. How can an inanimate piece of furniture look so reproachful?

“Would you like to meet me at Low Vice?”

I didn’t expect him to ask me out on arealdate, but wouldn’t that be the natural first step? Instead, we’re going straight to a BDSM club.

Oh, hell. He paid fifty thousand dollars for a sexual encounter with me. Sixty, including the tip. There is no “natural first step” with this guy.

“Leah?” His voice is patient.

“Yes.” I nod even though he can’t see me. “Yes, I’ll meet you there. When?”

Dmitri

A text chimes with the club ringtone, so I check my phone. The message is from Miles, the bouncer working the parking lot entrance.Your friend is here again.

My friend?

Shit. Leah. Does she need something?

I text back,I’ll be right there.

I hurry into Low Vice, leaving the hallway that leads to Vice, the vanilla dance club. I lock the door after me. If any members need to get through, they’ll have to wait a couple of minutes, same as they would if I were taking a break.

“Everything okay?” Ayla asks from the reception desk where she checks in members.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” I say.

When I round the bar, I find Leah standing next to the other reception table, manned by Fouad. She’s looking over a clipboard. On that clipboard, I know, are lists of club rules and a release to sign.

“Leah, hey.” I stride forward.

She doesn’t seem to hear me as she studies the paperwork.

She’s seen the release and rules already—she had to look them over before the auction. Still, the sooner I get her out of here, the better. She isn’t a member. Miles shouldn’t have let her in. And if Gage sees her…

I don’t fucking know what he’ll do. But it’s probably deviant.

I don’t have a problem with deviancy as a concept. But he’s not a good guy, not a responsible Dom. And Leah deserves better. Better than him…and better than me. Taking control last night, the breath play? I shouldn’t have done it.

“Leah,” I say louder.

Glancing over her shoulder, she frowns. Unlike last time, when she came for my house key, she is dressed like she belongs here. She’s done something to her eyes, making them dramatic and smoky and bluer than ever. I’ve never seen this dress, a deep blue that’s almost black. The strappy halter reveals triangular peeks of her skin and showcases the rose and butterfly tattoo on her back.

The dress’s cut-out above her ass is mesmerizing.

There’s no emotion in her voice when she says, “Hi, Dmitri.”

“Leah, what are you doing here? Did you get locked out?” It’s a fucking idiotic question. She’s holding a pen and looking at the club rules. She’s dressed for a night out. But I’m grasping for some other explanation.

“No.” She doesn’t smile.

I know I fucked up last night. I should’ve admitted that I have feelings even though I’m going to ignore them. I should’ve told her how I want be with her again and again. But now we need to exercise some self-control, or, I don’t know. My thoughts are roaring around in my head like cars on a race track.

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